(No, L.A.'s hottest singles are NOT looking to party with you right now,

they’re either asleep or masturbating before they go to sleep.)

So what I'm talkin' about is one of those up-too-late and just hungry enough that it's annoying,

been at work all day, been out all night, just wanna get some rest if it wasn't for my damn stomach.

And we all know ol' Royal Donuts ain't just the king, but the one and only,

sanctified and holy come right down from heaven midnight savior of just that kind of hunger.

So I walk on in, order me up a couple glazed, a cup of mud and a ham an' cheese,

and I'm sittin' there in the aerodynamically curvaceous booth seats,

an' damn if my intellect got nothin' better to do than land on the TV and soak it in for a while.

And ya know those commercials, the ones with the paid-for-a-couple-hours-work lingere models

askin' if you're horny and lonely and feel like fornicating through a telephone line

...and it's about that time I realize that's not what this is at all.

It's a goddamn commercial for a sexy text message service.

You text this number, and one of our beautiful, willing, on-call bombshells will sit there

and hit the 7 key three times for 'R', she'll really text ya somethin' hot.

It's a goddamn commercial for a sexy text message service.

And it's not even about how pathetic it is, and it's not even about

my morbid fascination with what kind of human being with real hopes and fears

would call this number, my problem is simply this:

Just about anything anybody does anywhere on any day for any reason

qualifies as getting more action than receiving a sexy text message from a sexy text message service.

When you get a hard-on looking at a billboard.

When your phone rings and it's a wrong number.

When they forget your ketchup at the drive-thru.

When you get a shitty haircut.

When someone asks you for fifty cents 'cause they really need to make a phonecall

AND you give it to them.

When you stay on the phone with a telemarketer.

When someone makes the 'hey, can I cut in?' motion to you on the freeway.

When you shake a man's hand.

When you so much as glance at a woman who's dressed like a whore

(you're a minimum of nine levels above sexy text messages)

When someone is 'so sorry, I totally thought you were someone else'.

When you get a jury duty summons

When someone is terribly sorry sir, but your credit card has been declined.

Think about some mediocre sex you had once. You've just done it, here and now.

When your mom calls you and asks if you've eaten anything today.

When Marvin Gaye comes on the radio while you're driving.

When you get a parking ticket, you get fucked so hard by the city you wanna shove an entire pack of Parliament Lights in your mouth, light 'em up with a couple burning $20 bills and say "OH GOD that was amazing. Do that to me again."

Anybody. Anytime. Anywhere. Is getting luckier than the person texting this service.

And tonight, while you're sitting there waiting for your inbox to flash and I'm at home in my shower and unintentionally brush against my dick a certain way and then not do anything about it, compared to you, buddy, I'm fucking Swedish triplets.

all material on this site copyright 2008 by flip cassidy